Page 73 of One Last Rodeo

"If you keep making that sound," I murmur against her jaw, "there will be no quiet from me tonight."

I lower my mouth and close my lips around her nipple, feeling her inhale catch. Then her hands are in my hair, tugging my face back up to hers. She kisses me the way she does everything—with her whole attention, nothing held back, like she's decided this is what she's doing, and the rest of the world can wait.

I get lost in it. We kiss like we have nowhere to be, like there's no series to get back to and no title on the line and no complications waiting for us when we leave Tennessee. Just her mouth and her hands and the creak of the old mattress and the stars I can still see through the window over her shoulder.

Minutes of kissing pass and I don't count them. Then her hands slide beneath my waistband, pushing my sweatpants down. She takes my cock in her hand and guides me into her without breaking the kiss. She rolls her hips up and takes what she wants, and I feel myself sink into her slowly and deeply. I swear every ride, every score, every buckle I've ever won doesn't come close to this feeling of being inside her.

"I’ve just had the best week of my life with you," I say against her mouth.

She kisses me harder in response. She doesn't say it back, and I don't need her to. I can feel it in the way she holds me—arms around my neck, heels hooked at my waist, pulling me closer like she's trying to close every last inch of space between us.

Something changed here in Tennessee. We arrived as almost friends, but we’re not leaving that way.

I press deeper, finding the rhythm we've learned together. My thumb brushes her clit, working slow, steady circles until her breath breaks apart against my lips and her whole body tightens around me. She comes quietly, and it's more intimate this way. This thing between us that she's trying to contain in the darkness of my childhood bedroom while my grandma’s asleep down the hall.

I follow her over the edge, holding her through it, my mouth on hers the entire time as I fill her with my come. When I finish, I pull out and clean her gently with some tissues, then lie down beside her. The old bed creaks under my weight, and we're close enough that we’re touching without even meaning to.

"Jensen?"

"Yeah."

There’s a long pause until she says, "Thank you for bringing me here. I like your grandma too."

I find her hand in the dark, fold mine over hers. I think about the red nail polish and her on the back of Maggie, trying something new and scary and choosing to trust me with it.

"Thank you for coming," I say.

She doesn't say anything else. And neither do I. And after a while, her breathing evens out, and she's asleep.

I don’t want this week to end.

Chapter 22 – Catalina

Daniela:Hey sis. Have you seen mom and dad yet?

Catalina:No. I’m at the hospital.

Daniela:Why?

Catalina:I’m still PRN there.

Daniela:Yes… but why are you there? Did someone need a consult? Or are you just there because you can't stay away from heart surgery for too long?

I hesitate, debating whether to be honest with my sister about why I’m here. Maybe I haven't always been open to sharing every little detail of my life with her, but I don't want to lie now either.

Ever since I took the job in Whitewood Creek and we became closer while living in the same city, things have been different between us. It felt like we were headed in the right direction torepair and strengthen our relationship right before I left for the Iron Horn Series. The problem is I know how she's going to react if I tell her the real reason I’m back at my old hospital. And I know the conclusions she's going to jump to, all of which are completely false.

I decide to go with the truth anyway.

Catalina:Davis needed me for a consult on one of his patients.

There’s a full three-second pause before her reply.

Daniela:Tell him to go fuck himself.

Catalina:I’ll be sure to let him know that you said that.

Daniela:Good.